n's room and in my room it's just like
an oven. Jarge's room, downstairs here, is cool enough, but I can't use
that, for Jarge pays good money for it and besides lets Terry sleep with
him. No, no, Rosie, I can't impose on Jarge."

Rosie's blue eyes snapped. "Well, why can't you put her in the front
room? That's cool."

"Why, Rosie! You know very well why I can't. Ellen won't let me. When a
girl's a young lady like Ellen, she's got to have a place for gintlemin
callers, and how would she feel, she says, if her gintlemin friends was
to smell Geraldine!"

"Smell Geraldine! Maggie O'Brien, I'd think you'd be ashamed o'
yourself! Geraldine'd be all right if you changed her and washed her
often enough! You can bet nobody ever smelled Jackie! It's just your own
fault about Geraldine, and you know it is!"

"Rosie dear, why do you be so hard on your poor ma? I'm sure I wash her
whenever I get the chance. I'm always washin' and ironin' somethin'!"

"Yes. You're always washing and ironing Ellen's things!"

"Why, Rosie, how you do be talkin'! When a girl's a young lady she's got
to have a good supply of fresh skirts and clean shirt-waists. Men like
to see their stenogs dressed clean and pretty."

"Aw, what do I care how men like their stenogs? All I want to say is
this: If you got a baby, you ought to wash it!"

"Yes, Rosie dear, but what'd you do if you'd been like your poor ma and
had had eight babies? Ah, you don't know how wearyin' it is, Rosie!"

Rosie rushed out of the kitchen, unable longer to endure the discussion.
But she was back in a few moments, carrying towels and a large white
basin.

"Why, Rosie dear, are you really goin' to give poor little Geraldine a
nice----"

"Maggie O'Brien, if you say a single word to me I won't do a thing!"
Rosie glared at her mother threateningly.

"Mercy on us, Rosie, how you talk! I won't say a word! I promise you on
me oath I'll be as quiet as a mouse! You won't hear a sound out o' me,
will she, baby darlint? I'll be like the deaf and dumb man at the
Museum. He talks with his fingers, Rosie. You'd die laughin' to see
him...."

At the cooling touch of water, little Geraldine quieted her whimpering
and began to smile wanly. The sight of her neglected body made Rosie's
anger blaze anew.

"Maggie O'Brien, I don't believe you've touched this baby for a week!
You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Just look at how chafed she is, and
her body all over prickly heat, too!... Where'